Clothes Make the Mutant
by fuzzybluelogic
Summary: The XMen remember their old costumes. Hilarity ensues.


"New uniforms?" Logan peered at Scott suspiciously. "The Elf didn't mention nothing about new uniforms."

"It's just a leather-ish body armor laden pants and shirt ensemble." Scott explained.. "It's not like I'm asking you to squeeze into spandex." The X-Men Field Leader opened a metal case. They were in the med-lab. Hank McCoy created the uniforms for the X-Men using the unstable molecular formula invented by a member of the well known superhero team, The Fantastic Four. He just added in a healthy dose of Kevlar and made the uniforms aesthetically acceptable.

"Reed Richards didn't make this, did he?" Logan backed away from Scott cautiously.

"Reed? He invented the process but he didn't, I repeat _did not_ make our uniforms." Scott seemed as vehemently opposed to Reed-wear as Logan. He handed Logan a rather unremarkable black leather pair of pants, short sleeved shirt and jacket. Wolverine inspected them, they seemed perfectly harmless and relatively inoffensive. The jacket seemed cozy enough, lots of pockets, and had a faint black-on-black "X" insignia on the upper sleeves. "Hank can create a trench coat or duster for you, if you like. It's how some of the guys personalize their uniforms. You just get with him about the design and number of pockets." Scott continued as he handed Logan a smaller silver case. "Your comlink unit." He explained. "You, uh, familiar with Reed's …work?"

"Yeah, I've seen it." Logan slipped the comlink case into the jacket's pocket.

"Scott!" Jean slid into the room, almost crashing into one of the exam tables. Her velvet "kung-fu" mary janes had practically no traction. She was wearing a tightly laced black brocade bodice over a very poofy-sleeved chemise, and two green skirts, the top skirt bustled up into her brown leather belt. Her head sported rather lopsidedly a dried flower wreath. "Heed! Coupons! Noooooow!" she bellowed in her best faux-Scottish accent. Scott yanked his wallet from his pocket. He pulled out a few bright yellow Renn-Faire coupons and handed them over to his wife. Jean tucked them into her cleavage.

"I want those honey-roasted almonds." Scott grinned and gave her a quick kiss.

"Hey, Logan." Jean greeted, dried baby's breath scattering with every movement of her head. "Want to go to the Renn Faire with us?"

"Nah, thanks though, Jeannie. Just getting my general issue from Cyke here." Logan held up his bundle of leather duds.

"Ooo, did you show him the old uniforms?" Jean cackled evilly. "They were…_special_."

"God no, I want to keep him. Not send him running screaming back to Canada." Scott closed the metal case. "We never actually _wore_ them except for that one try-on session. Hank just copied the material for our actual uniforms. Piotr's was my favorite."

"I had a certain fondness for yours, Scott." Jean giggled. "I _have_ to show him. I gotta."

_Logan, I'm going to show you the scene telepathically, ok? _Jean's voice resonated inside his mind. It was faintly unnerving. _Close your eyes, it helps._

"Yeah, sure." He said aloud, unsure on how to communicate telepathically back. He sat down and closed his eyes. Like a weird sort of inner cinema, a scene began to unfold behind his clenched eyes.

"Holy Dayum, I am The Sexy." Scott announced, looking down at his bright blue wonder-suit. "It's sort of like a scuba outfit gone horribly awry." He adjusted his yellow panty. "What's with the diaper?" His head looked freakishly small trapped inside its confining skull condom. His canary colored _huge_ goggle-like visor gleamed majestically in the med-lab lighting. He checked himself out in the large dressing mirror Hank had set up. "Holy fuck!" he squeaked and then burst into loud peals of laughter. The rest of the X-Men stared in gaped-mouth wonder. Screams of laughter erupted from the small assembled crowd that sat and stood in the med-lab. Scott, red-faced from laughing himself, strutted around proudly. "I'm not sure what to do with these yellow strap things."

"I covet the coolness of thee!" Bobby jumped up and walked over to Hank, who had his face pressed against his desk, his shoulders shaking. "Gimmee!" Hank kicked over a relatively small case at Bobby. He gleefully snatched it up and dashed into the private exam room they were using as a dressing area. Everyone could hear him squeal with delight. He pranced out only a few minutes later, wearing an ice blue unitard bodysuit with a big white "X" across the chest and knee boots. "Check it out guys!" He iced up, the unitard disappeared, leaving only a translucent brief in its wake. "An Ice Panty!" Hank fell on the floor and howled. Jean sprayed the back of Kurt with a mouthful of soda. Kurt took no notice and gawked, open mouthed. Remy decided it was time to start drinking.

Warren braved the dressing room next. He came out with a look of utter disbelief. "This is fucking indecent." He muttered. His costume was another tighter then skin-tight bodysuit that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. It was blue and white and sported a big golden halo in the center of his chest. His blond hair poked frumpily out of his partial head condom. Even his wings looked indignant. Scott had to lay down. Bobby took pictures. Kurt continued to gawk. Jean twitched slightly from the floor. Hank made pathetic little mewling noises and gasped for air. The rest looked for exits and other routes of escape.

Piotr, Remy and Kurt decided to attack the costumes together. There was a sudden burst of rapid fire Russian, French, and German expletives from the exam room.

"I do not see how this is supposed to stay on." Piotr's anguished voice drifted out.

"I don't understan' how t'get get dis thing on my head. It keep pullin' at my hair. An' these be some complicated boots." Gambit just seemed slightly confused, "An' why is it _pink_?"

"Wow, these are some seriously improbable epaulettes." Kurt appeared mystified. "And they're pointing at my crotch."

Gambit walked out first, "Piotr an' Kurt are havin' some technical difficulties, but dey be out soon." He lumbered around in what looked like heavy metal knee boots, black pants and a bright pink body armor top with a weird neckpiece. His reddish hair stuck awkwardly out of another partial head condom. He had his trench coat covering the entire outfit. "Mm, dis thing is just plain _retarded_." The populace rejoiced. Gambit smirked. Luckily, the Cajun had been born completely shame-deficient.

"I cannot come out like this. I just…." Piotr called out from the room. "I cannot even begin to describe the wrongness of this…thing."

BAMF

"Uh oh, looks like Kurt went over d'wall." Remy chuckled.

"He said he needed a "prop"." Piotr explained. "All right, I am coming out now." Everyone waited with baited breath.

It was worth the wait. Piotr's face was bright red. It matched the bright red of the huge "V" that was his costume. A giant red "V" that thrust from each shoulder and met at a point right at his nether regions. The "V" pointed at his red Speedo. He had what looked like red Go-Go boots. A yellow mock turtleneck-type dickie filled in the "V". Bobby stood and saluted. Piotr scowled. 'Ro nearly swallowed her tongue. The rest applauded.

BAMF

Kurt appeared, brandishing a rapier and a black mullet wig. He wore a black painted-on body suit and little white mittens and socks. Like Piotr, Kurt also had a giant crotch pointing "V". Unlike Piotr, Kurt didn't have a modesty sparing padded Speedo. Everything, right down to Kurt's religion, was revealed. Remy covered Jean's eyes. Rogue wolf whistled. Dani whipped out her digital camera.

"Greetings, Mein Freunds! Vhat do you think?" He cried, excessively German. "I liebe zis costume more zen unwashed Lederhosen! I zink zah ladies will love it, Ja?" He collapsed onto Jean's lap, waggling his eyebrow. "I am zee Uber-Sexy, Ja?"

"You are zee Uber-ham." Jean shoved him off her lap. She stole his mullet and put it on.

"Honey-Baked, baby." He retorted in his normal voice with its soft accented lilt. "Unhand my hair-do, you mullet swiping fiend." Kurt snatched his wig back.

"Well, that answers my question on if he had any "special" piercings." Dani observed,. "Reed Richards designed these, huh?"

"They say genius can breed insanity." Kurt said from the floor, using his faux-mullet to cover his naughty-bits. "Speaking of Hank..."

"Your turn, Dr. McCoy." Bobby made a face and plucked at his costume. "I have an X-wedgie in my X-costume. This thing makes my ass sweat."

Hank wiped tears from his eyes and stifled another round of guffaws. He reached down and held up a tiny bundle of navy blue.

"What's that?" Scott asked.

"My costume." Hank held up a teeny pair of dark blue short-shorts. "I'm disinclined to don such, ahem, diminutive duds. For some reason beyond my mere mortal comprehension, Dr. Richards has concluded that The Beast needs hot pants...and a little belt with the obligatory "X". And here I deduced that disco was dead."

"I am without words, Hank." Scott took the little panty and held it up with two fingers.

"Allow me to lend you a few of mine: deranged, debacle, diabolical diaper of doom..." Hank shook his head.

"It seems today's alliteration will be brought to you today by the letter "D"." Bobby observed.

"Ladies' turn." Remy yanked off his head condom. "I have got t'see dis."

The women assembled in the exam room, what followed was a series of giggles, horrified shrieks, incredulous gasps, and moans as they struggled to adorn themselves with their ill-conceived costumes.

"Shazam!" Jean leapt out. She had an all over orange-ish body suit highlight with some sort of blue body thong, moderate epaulettes, high heeled boots and another of the popular quasi-head condom. Her red hair jutted out of the top and flopped around her shoulders. She bounced over to Kurt and poked him with her epaulette. He took to the challenge and their duel was on: pointy shoulder thing vs. pointy shoulder thing.

"Behold my Injun-ness." Dani dead-panned, strolling covered head to doe-skin covered toe in fringe layered orange spandex. "I feel like a doofier and sluttier version of Apache Chief."

"The only Superfriend lamer then Marv, Wendy, and Wonder Dog." Bobby informed the crowd wisely. "Holy Stereotype, Batman."

"I think my soul just died." Warren said, holding Hank's clipboard over his groin. The rest of the women filed out, cussing and red faced. They were dressed similarly to Jean, just with different coloring and accessories. Storm counted no less then thirty-three lightening bolt motifs on her costume. Rogue tried to hide her green and yellow suit under her leather bomber jacket. The med-lab door opened and Professor Charles Xavier wheeled in, a manila envelope on his lap.

"Henry, I brought down that file that we were discuss-..." Charles's voice died away as he took in the room. "Oh, dear, someone's let Reed play with fabric again."

The scene faded from Logan's mind.

"I, uh, well..." He looked down at the boring black leather in his arms with renewed appreciation. Jean grinned.

"Whenever anyone bitches about their uniforms, Jean provides a gentle mental reminder of what _could_ be."


End file.
